Haunted Memories
by xxDustNight88
Summary: The death of a dear friend brings Hermione back to England. Haunted by the memories of the past, will she be able to find solace in the one who she missed most of all?


**Author's Note:** Hey loves! This story was written for Harmony & Co's Something Wicked This Way Comes Halloween Competition. I was lucky enough to win joint first place for best Tear Jerker and join runner-up for Best Angst. I hope that you all enjoy this angsty little Halloween piece as much as I do. Happy Halloween!

Thank you to thescarletphoenixx for alpha reading and GaeilgeRua for beta reading. Any other mistakes you find are definitely my own. Much love, xxDustNight

 **Disclaimer:** All non-original characters, plot points, and information belong to Warner Brothers or J.K. Rowling. The story plot and dialogue belong to me. I do not write for profit.

 _ **Haunted Memories  
**_ **Pairing:** Harry Potter/Hermione Granger _ **  
**_ **Rating: T  
** **Triggers:** Angst, Minor Character Death, Suicide  
 **Summary:** _The death of a dear friend brings Hermione back to England. Haunted by the memories of the past, will she be able to find solace in the one who she missed most of all?  
_ _ **Prompt:**_ After Hogwarts Hermione and Harry lost touch. A friend's sudden death brings them back together.

. . . .

 _Haunted Memories_

Standing at the end of the lane, Hermione had never thought she would have to do this again. Glancing up at the cloudy sky, she had to admit that the dreary, grey day accentuated her mood. Sighing heavily, she returned her gaze to the pathway before her and took a single step. George was dead, and now she was forced to return to a life she would rather have left forgotten.

It had been ten long years since Hermione last stepped foot in England. She'd left behind everything after the war… Her family, friends, and even magic. Living as a Muggle in the south of France had allowed her time to grow and time to heal. For far too long she lived alone, haunted by memories of the death and destruction of war. But when that owl arrived with the details of George's death and funeral arrangements, she knew it was time to return.

A cold wind whipped up, swirling her long curls around her face as she moved toward the once welcoming sight of the Burrow. Raking her hands through the tangled locks, she struggled to keep her breathing even as panic threatened to take over. These people used to be her family, but now they were strangers. Ten years was bound to have changed everyone. There was only one person she was truly looking forward to seeing, but even then, she was uncertain he would want to see her.

After what felt like an eternity, Hermione reached the front door of the towering house. Inside she could hear the quiet mutterings of a family in mourning. Her heart gave a lurch at the thought of being thrust into this again, and she almost turned and fled entirely. The hope of making amends and finally having a chance to explain why she left all those years ago was the only reason she was able to lift her hand and give a solid knock on the old oak door.

. . . .

"So, do you think she'll show up?" Ron asked, sipping his mug of butterbeer and staring at Harry over the brim.

"I dunno, mate," Harry replied with a frown. His own mug sat untouched on the table in front of him. Memories of the past haunted him even now and he sort of wished they were drinking something stronger. However, Harry knew that drowning his sorrows was the last thing he needed to do right now. He needed to be supportive of his best friend and family.

"No one has heard from her in years," Ron pointed out as he finished off his drink. "The last anyone even heard, she was living as a Muggle."

"I still don't understand why she left to begin with." Harry ran two hands over his face, knocking his glasses askew. Heaving a heavy sigh, he fixed his glasses and finally picked up his mug to take a sip. "It was stupid of us to even bother inviting her."

"Don't say that," Ron mumbled, sadness filling his eyes and voice.

Harry's head snapped up to stare at his best friend. "I'm so sorry, Ron. That was insensitive of me."

"It's fine," Ron told him, rapidly blinking away the tears. "George struggled all these years, and now he finally has peace… He's finally with Fred again."

They were both silent for a spell, Ron trying to gather his thoughts and Harry trying to numb the uncertainty he felt over the days to come. He wanted more than anything to see Hermione again, but he had no idea if she was ready to return to England and face what happened the last they met. Besides, it wasn't as if a funeral was the right place to make such amends or even affirmations. It was a time for mourning and celebrating a life that was taken from them far too soon, even it was at their own hands.

Having had just about enough of the silence, Harry was prepared to ask Ron if he wanted to head outside and fly around on their old broomsticks when there was a knock on the door. Both he and his red-headed friend looked to the door, the person on the other side a mystery. However, given the fact that the rest of the Weasley clan was already within the house, there could be only one person left that may be on the other side.

Ron stood and headed toward the door, throwing Harry an uneasy look over his shoulder. Harry remained where he was, frozen with both fear and hope. Then, the door was opening and in the doorway surrounded by the autumn wind stood their friend who neither had seen in nearly ten years. Harry was up and out of his seat before Ron could open his mouth to say hello.

"Hermione?" Ron asked, disbelief lacing every syllable. Harry stood there with bated breath, his heart thumping wildly in his chest.

"Hi, Ron," she mumbled, ducking her eyes briefly before finding green. "Harry."

"It's so great to see you," Ron continued, opening the door wider. "Come inside. Everyone is going to be so thrilled to have you here."

"I just wish it was under better circumstances," Hermione admitted, nibbling at her lip as the door was closed behind her. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Ron." She reached out and pulled her old friend into a quick hug.

Ron returned the embrace and then held her at arm's length. "Thank you." He dropped his hold and then offered to take her jacket. "You always were George's favorite."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Hermione replied with a small smile.

"Well, he liked you a lot more than he ever liked me," Ron continued to tease.

Even though she stood there fully clothed, Hermione somehow felt rather exposed without her coat. She took a few deep, even breaths as Ron hung her coat on the rack and she continued to stare at Harry who had yet to speak to her. She attempted a smile, but it felt foreign on her face. Instead, she decided to pull from the reserves of her Gryffindor courage and strode right over to Harry.

Cupping his cheek, she said, "I've missed you, Harry."

Harry placed his hand overtop Hermione's and pressed it into his skin. He'd missed her too but had no way to say so without sounding ridiculous. She was so calm and confident, her smile radiant and eyes sad but resilient. "Hi," he managed, at last, the words barely audible. "I've missed you too."

Hermione opened her mouth to say more but was cut off when Ginny bounded into the room. Her eyes were red from crying, but her face lit up at the sight of their old friend. "Hermione Granger! I never thought I'd see your face again! Come here!" She tugged the bushy-haired witch into her arms and held fast.

Within moments the rest of the Weasley clan had poured into the kitchen and practically thrown themselves at Hermione. She was being asked a million questions per second and urged to come forward into the warmth of the living room for tea, biscuits, and to tell the tale of what she'd been up to these past ten years. Apologetically, she threw her friends a stare that indicated she wished nothing more than to be alone with them once more.

"I'll catch up with you later," she said in a whispered promise as she was ushered past Harry and Ron.

Harry merely nodded, his heart thudding with hope. Ron smirked, clapping him on the shoulder before going to join his family in welcoming Hermione home. Now alone in the kitchen, Harry was left to his own thoughts. He couldn't wait to be alone with Hermione so that they could discuss the past. There was so much to say but where did they start?

. . . .

The last few days of October passed in a blur for Hermione. She'd spent much of her time catching up with the Weasleys and an assortment of other people from her past. She'd been more than a little surprised to find herself peeling and cubing potatoes with one Pansy Parkinson, who just so happened to be Ron's long-time girlfriend. The flurry of activity and catching up left little time for sitting and talking with Harry and Ron. It left little time for thinking too. Well, aside from being reminded of why she'd left England after the war.

Death. So much of it. Despite trying to put on their very best faces, Hermione could tell that the Weasleys were rather torn over the loss of George. The funeral had been beautiful, the once jovial redhead being buried next to his late twin brother. Once more the Weasleys had to figure out how to stitch themselves back together again. Sitting outside in a rickety old rocking chair, Hermione contemplated whether or not she should return to France or try and reintegrate here.

It was about this time that Harry stepped out of the back door, shutting it behind him. He carried two steaming mugs of hot apple cider in one hand and a plate of pumpkin pasties in the other. Accepting the plate from him, she waited for Harry to sit down in the other rocking chair before taking a mug for herself. He gave her a soft smile before tucking into his snack. The silence that settled between them wasn't uncomfortable, but there was definitely a heaviness to it.

"I don't want you to leave," Harry murmured, his voice barely audible over the blustery wind.

Sighing, Hermione stared into the half-empty mug of cider. "Do you understand why I left?" She hated to ask but knew that this conversation was long overdue. When he nodded, she set her mug on the ground and turned slightly so she could see him better. "Then, you understand my compulsion to leave again," she stated simply.

"I do…" Harry trailed off. With a sigh, he placed both hands on his knees and pushed himself to stand. Pacing back and forth in front of the rocking chairs for a few quiet moments, Harry attempted to gather his thoughts. Stopping abruptly, he pivoted to face Hermione once more. "I know more than anyone what it's like to feel a loss so deep you can't come back from it."

"I know you do, Harry," Hermione said softly, rising from her own chair. She reached out and took Harry's hands in her own. "You're much stronger at dealing with loss and pain because of what you went through when we were children. Me… Not so much. I struggle to keep it together most days. You lost so much. More than anyone."

"The only person I cared about losing," he whispered, brushing his thumbs over the tops of her knuckles, "was you…"

Her heart practically shattered at hearing those words. Bowing her head, Hermione tried not to let her eyes fill with tears. There had been far too much crying over the years. That's not what they needed right now. Instead, she took a deep breath, lifted her head, and said, "I was broken, Harry. A mess. I needed time to put myself back together again."

"We all did." Harry met her tearful gaze, soldiering on as he always did. "Please, don't go back to France."

"I need a fairly big reason to stay, Harry," she replied, hating the ache she felt inside her chest. She half turned to stare up into Harry's hauntingly beautiful green eyes. Merlin, she wanted a reason to stay. More than anything.

"I don't know what you want me to say," Harry retorted, albeit without anger. He was agitated; yes, but he was not upset with Hermione. He just hated to see her go… He loved her, more than anything. Sighing in frustration, he turned and glared out at the backyard, unable to voice what he wanted to say. Surely, she would run scared if he came right out and admitted he still loved her even after all this time.

Realizing Harry was teetering on the edge of an emotional breakdown, Hermione chose to broach the topic another way. She joined him where he stood. "It was Halloween when I left," Hermione pointed out, staring out at the backyard. Molly and Arthur had carved pumpkins with their grandchildren. The jack-o-lanterns were now floating around the yard and giving off a faint glow. It was festive and even calming in a way. Hermione had to smile; it always had felt like home here.

"Halloween has always been a rather depressing time for me," Harry admitted, inching closer to her and watching the October clouds. When he felt Hermione move slightly, he turned and gave her a smile. "But I think, if you stay, I'll have reason to find happiness again. That's if, you want to?"

"What are you asking?" She needed him to say it out loud, or she couldn't find it in herself to make a decision otherwise.

"Stay, Hermione. Stay here in England. With me. We can work through the pain of the past together." He paused, giving her a chance to interrupt. When she didn't, he forged onward. "I never stopped loving you. If you stay, we can finally give our love a chance."

Something burst inside her chest, like a dam breaking loose after a particularly violent storm. Suddenly, she felt free. Free of the chains that bound her for so long. Free of the pain and darkness that made her flee after the war. Reaching out, she carded her fingers through Harry's wind-tousled hair. This was home. _Harry_ was home, and she should never have forgotten that. It was time to set right what she'd done wrong all those years ago.

"I asked for a good reason… I made a mistake. I always had a reason to come back. I just didn't want to see it." She trailed her fingertips down and over the stubble of his jaw, recalling a time long ago when she had once done the same. Things were different now. _She_ was different now, and because of that, she knew that this would be okay. "You are that reason, Harry. Everything I ever loved, I left behind when I left England. When I left you."

And then, with the jack-o-lanterns casting a festive glow this crisp Halloween night, Hermione kissed Harry and wordlessly promised herself that she would run no longer. She was home.


End file.
